


Love and War Are All One

by orphan_account



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Spies & Secret Agents, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, IN SPACE!, M/M, Minor Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-04
Updated: 2017-07-04
Packaged: 2018-11-23 05:39:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11396442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Allura leads the Resistance against Zarkon, but they're not the only faction in the universe. In addition, the Blade of Marmora works behind the scenes to foil the Galra's advance, though beyond that their goals are a mystery. Two agents, one loyal to Allura and one loyal to the Blade, meet under unfortunate circumstances during their missions and then can't stop running into each other.Long-shot ending in Klance with a bit of AU-typical violence.





	Love and War Are All One

**Author's Note:**

> I randomly thought of this after watching play-throughs of Hitman because i'm a dork. Also, you'll have to tear space ranger AU out of my cold, dead hands

_Just outside the reaches of the Galra Empire, a small yet powerful planet known as Orinma has steadily been gaining influence. They are quiet enough, maintaining peaceful trade with their enemies such that none ever suspect anything of them, and their submissive king gives them the appearance of weakness. Of course, those more intimately acquainted with the planet know that their true power resides not with the government, but in their army. Most notably, it is General Lyrn who acts as the “neck” turning their elderly king._

_Resentment for the approaching Galra army has been festering among the people, but their king preaches peace. Propaganda, backed by army grunts, floods the cities, and the capitol is on the verge of revolt. The king’s own private guards have engaged in a number of violent skirmishes with protesters, and a coup is inevitable. A coup will be advantageous for the Resistance, as Lyrn’s views toward the Galra aligns closely with ours. However, for the sake of control, it would be advantageous to have someone close to the action—close to Lyrn, specifically—during the coup to ensure a smooth transition of power. Of course, any subterfuge should remain discreet, both so that the populace has full faith in Lyrn as their new ruler, as well as so that Lyrn has no reason to distrust us._

Lance swiped downward on his borrowed tablet to close the briefing. He leaned back in his chair, full lips stuck in a firm line.

“Sounds simple,” he commented. “I’m surprised you were chosen to brief me, Princess. Seems a bit beneath you to do so.

Across the table from him, his boss, Princess Allura, nodded. “I am rather busy, but I requested to speak with you personally.”

“I’m flattered.”

She laughed. “It’s a delicate mission, though I don’t think you should find any difficulties with it. We happen to know from sources in the palace that General Lyrn has a type, and you just happen to fill it quite well. If you read further, you’ll see that we’ll require some temporary modifications for you to fulfill the mission.”

He did just that and frowned. “What part of this is temporary?”

“I know it’s rather extreme, but with our technology, the surgery can easily be reversed when you come back.”

“And when will that be?”

“We anticipate that the king will completely fall out of favor with his people in less than half a pheeb. Of course, anything you or we can do to speed that up in as ‘natural’ a way as possible is encouraged; plus, any information you can feed us on the army’s capabilities is also appreciated.”

“I thought Lyrn was an ally?” he raised a brow.

“He is… but, just in case he tries to deceive us in the future…”

“I’m only teasing,” he winked. “I know we need to keep as close an eye on our allies as we do on our enemies.”

“Then we will proceed with the tattoos and surgery in a few vargas. You leave tonight.”

“Not a lot of time to study up on my role, is it?”

“There’s no need to fake any speech style or personality; Pidge only has to take care of your identification card. Orinma’s knowledge of the outside world is limited, so we anticipate that they’ll accept your story without much questioning, even if you were to claim to have some level of celebrity.”

“And Lyrn, too, will be so gullible?”

“I’m sure you can sway him to believe whatever you say.”

“I do have a way with powerful men,” he smiled. Standing, he bowed low. “I’ll do my utmost to bring the Resistance closer to victory.”

“See to it that you do, Lance.”

 

* * *

 

Sneaking into the General’s home—more of a castle, really—had been easy; taking out a member of the wait staff, second nature. It had admittedly been lucky that Keith had been picked out of the line-up to serve his mark’s table personally, but he was able to roll with the opportunity with ease. Despite his natural tendency to avoid conversation at all cost, for the sake of his mission, smiling pleasantly at guests who didn’t give a damn about him beyond his ability to serve fresh glasses and finger foods was hardly a bother.

He offered yet another glass of wine for the man next to his mark, General Lyrn, on seeing it close to emptying. He’d been briefed about the man’s recent suitor, a model of Altean heritage—the species was certainly a rarity in their day and age, though not unheard of. There had been immigrants before Altea’s destruction, and a handful had escaped during the tragedy itself. Keith had pegged the “aspiring model” as nothing more than a name chaser: why else would someone in the prime of their life go after someone as old as Lyrn? Sure, Lyrn was charismatic and attractive in his own right; the people of the Orinma loved him for a reason, after all, so much more than their king, but he paled in comparison to the man on his right.

Orinma was a wealthy planet, especially the royal family and the king's advisers. Lyrn himself purported to be a man of simple tastes, and compared to the king, he was. It was no surprise then that he was dressed in his simple army fatigues with only his cap signifying his station. The Altean, Lance, on the other hand, was decorated with little regard for function, gems sparkling over fine, sapphire silks that fell like calm, ocean waves lapping over sand with every movement. Perhaps Lyrn was a man of high-taste: he just preferred to splurge on people rather than objects.

The Altean seemed to be the more charming member of the pair, reaching out to talk to anyone who passed by them, server and guest alike. Lyrn and the others seemed completely caught under his spell, and who could blame them? Even Keith felt drawn in by his warm smiles, his tinkling laughs. He’d never seen an Altean before, and if his looks were typical to their species, he could understand why the outlandish myths and stories he’d heard growing up had gained such credence in the general population—most Galra called them sorcerers or sirens, which is why they feared Alteans so much; they thought them the only group capable of defeating them with their “powers”.

He shook his head, clearing his thoughts. He almost thought the handsome man was smirking at him, so he tore his gaze away and stepped back. 

“Thank you,” Lance smiled brightly in Keith’s direction. He took a large gulp from his new glass. “You don’t look like one of our usual guys, does he, Lyrn?” Keith tensed, but masked his discomfort by taking Lance’s emptied glass and setting it on a separate tray.

“Hm?” the General turned and looked Keith up and down. “I honestly couldn’t tell you either way, darling.”

Lance pouted, smacking his shoulder lightly. “You should be more attentive, some soldier you are!” It was a fair remark, seeing as the city was on the verge of a military coup against the king, with Lyrn at the head. That was precisely why Keith had been hired—whether it was by the king himself, his family, or those still loyal to him, he wasn’t cleared to know—to put a stop to such a power shift. Orinma was a paragon of peace in a galaxy plagued with war, and bringing their advanced weaponry into the battle was not in his organization’s best interest. The Blade of Marmora wanted the Galra Empire defeated, of course, but not through brute force. They had a number of agents positioned with the Galra Army itself, some working directly with Zarkon, even. A wild card in the form of battle-hungry Lyrn was not part of the plan.

Lyrn shook his head. “I apologize. What’s your name, young man?”

“Keith, sir,” he bowed. He was able to use his real name since he’d never be seeing any of those people ever again. Besides, the Blade had practically erased all evidence of his existence from any and all records, so even if they knew his whole name, there wasn’t much they could do with that information.

“How long have you been working with us?” Lyrn asked.

“I came on just last week.”

Lance hummed. “Is that right? How are you liking it here?”

“Don’t bother the boy, dear,” Lyrn patted his hand. “He’s just trying to do his job. I’m sure he doesn’t care to talk to any of us.”

“Forgive me, it’s just refreshing to see a new face. Let me know if you need anything, Keith!”

“Right, thank you,” he attempted a small smile.

Later, with the party in full swing, Keith was dragged away to refill some of the pastries on the dessert tables. He kept a close eye on Lyrn, who seemed a bit too engaged with his wine and with Lance to be suspicious of an attack. The couple, a bright light as they danced across the floor, only stopped their movements to chat with fellow revolutionaries at the party. Lance was always at Lyrn’s side, though he wasn’t just there for decoration. From what Keith was able to overhear, both from Lance himself or from those chatting about the “mystery man” who “fell into Lyrn’s favor like a wild tempest”, to quote an older woman who seemed to not be a fan, he was a rather loud mouthpiece for Lyrn’s impending rise to power with the commoners, those who were afraid of war and their army. He reassured them, preached prosperity and peace that could only come through retaliation against Zarkon’s cruel reign. Keith had been advised to only take out Lyrn, but Lance was proving to be a more integral piece than anticipated. Of course, the Altean surely couldn’t sway the army itself to trigger the revolt, not in the way Lyrn could at least, but a people united against a king could prove just as powerful as those with guns.

When there was a lull in the kitchen, Keith slipped into one of the service hallways. A quick flick of his knife later, a guard was down and his outfit stolen. He knew the layout of the castle thanks to his briefing, so he made his way toward Lyrn’s bedroom, oddly unguarded; the man sure was confident in his influence over all of his guests. Keith hid himself in a closet and prepared for his next move.

This hadn’t been the original plan—he’d hoped to take Lyrn out via his food or wine, or perhaps slit his throat when he stepped outside for air. Unfortunately, that Lance character was always too close for poisoning: he’d taste Lyrn’s drinks and pick from his plate whenever he was served, so Keith had opted out of that plan. Even when Lyrn left for a moment for the balcony, he was closely followed by his lover, the pair sharing an intimate moment on the terrace overlooking Orinma’s famous gem-filled river. He wasn’t ready to take out Lance simply for being loyal to both Lyrn and the revolution, nor did he want any witnesses to his crime, thus he waited.

Figuring he had some time, he turned his comms unit on. There were a few beats of static in his ear, then the panicked voice of his brother.

“—eith! Keith! Do you copy?”

“Keep it down, mom, I copy.”

He sighed loudly. “Where are you? You should’ve been at the pick-up by now.”

“Bit of a setback, but it’s no problem. I’m in his room.”

“Isn’t that a bit reckless? He’ll be coming back with his boyfriend, at the very least.”

“I think I can handle his arm candy, Shiro.”

“Still, he’s a witness. You know what would happen if anyone figured out who was behind this.”

“I highly doubt he’ll be much of a threat, Shiro. With how much wine I gave him, I’d be surprised if he could even remember tonight.”

“Fine. Just be careful. Is the previous pick-up spot still good with your new location?”

“Yeah, it should be fine.”

Loud giggling could be heard outside the door—they were back much earlier than anticipated. Keith shut off his earpiece and held his breath.

The door slammed open, Lyrn laughing as Lance pushed him through.

“So impatient,” the General smiled.

“I was bored,” Lance shrugged. “Plus, that old man kept leering at me—kinda creepy.”

“It’s alright, he’ll be out of our hair soon.”

Lance chuckled. “Don’t count your eggs before they hatch.”

“What’s an egg?”

“Nothing. Wait on the bed for me? I need to freshen up a bit.”

Keith’s grip on the closet handle tightened—he could be in and out in seconds, taking out Lyrn before Lance even left the bathroom.

“You alright?” Lyrn asked, grasping Lance’s wrist before he could get too far. Keith froze. “You were drinking a bit more than usual tonight.”

Lance sighed. “I don’t know.” He settled next to Lyrn on the bed. “I just… there were  a lot of people talking.”

“About what?”

“Some people don’t have as much faith in you as they used to. I’m worried.”

“Don’t be,” Lyrn’s voice was strong, full of conviction. “With time, they will see that the king’s weak policies will be our downfall. We have to be strong in the face of invasion, and we need to strengthen our armies. We have allies beyond our planet, you know.”

“Really?”

Lyrn nodded. “We’ve had a number of political suitors that I’ve been working with. I only found out about this outside interest in the past few years—the king tried to hide it from all of his advisors in an effort to not join the war against Zarkon.”

This was news to Keith. He’d assumed the king had been forthcoming with the demand for Orinma’s army. He also wasn’t aware that others outside the planet were so close to Lyrn, nor that the majority of the population—judging by the diversity of supporters present at the party—wanted to enter the war. The Blade tended not to ally with other factions of the Resistance, as it was easier to not have so many pieces to control, but this also meant that their intelligence was reliant on clients who obviously had their own biases by which they operated. He’d always wondered if certain alliances would be more advantageous—perhaps Lyrn and his allies had the right idea.

Well, regardless, Keith wasn’t one who fought for morals or causes, but for money; he had a job to do.

“I’m just worried, is all. I just wish the king wasn’t around. Shouldn’t someone that old have died by now?” Lance huffed.

Lyrn chuckled. “Careful, dear, you could be tried for that kind of thinking.”

“Are you going to report me?” he slipped onto Lyrn’s lap, his hands settling behind his neck. “You can’t say you aren’t a little bit impatient for your chance to lead, can you?”

“Of course I am,” he squeezed Lance’s waist with his own hands.

“And I just wish I could help you get there sooner,” he purred, leaning forward to kiss Lyrn’s jaw. “Then I could truly be your queen.”

“I’m almost starting to think you just wanted me for my power.”

Lance laughed. He pushed Lyrn back on the bed. “Maybe. Why don’t you show me some of that power, then?”

Keith certainly was not keen on listening in on his mark making love with his much younger boyfriend, but nor was he interested in jumping out of the closet and taking him out to the sounds of moans and pants. It was one of the most awkward mission experiences in his recent memory, and he tried his best to tune everything out while he waited.

He was too tense to have gotten any arousal from listening in, but he could admit that the sounds Lance made were rather appealing. It was a shame he was such an inconsequential character in this play for power; he seemed genuine in his efforts to help out the people of Orinma. It was a stereotype of Alteans that they were loyal, almost blindly so, and Lance was certainly fulfilling that caricature. Whenever Altean immigrants found a new home, they stood by it through even the hardest of times—perhaps it was a symptom of losing their own home in such a horrendous way. Or, perhaps, it was simply a rumor. Knowing Zarkon, even if the planet declared neutrality, it would only be a matter of time before he forced them to his side or, as he did with Altea decapheebs before, destroyed them before they could decide for themselves.

Before things got too intimate, there was a lull.

“You alright?” Lyrn repeated, his age evident in how winded he sounded.

“Just need a moment. I have a surprise for you. Wait here.” There was the sound of covers shifting, then a bottle clanking on a table.

“More wine?” Lyrn laughed.

The cork opened with a loud pop. “Of course! It’s my favorite. Have a taste.” Instead of pouring a glass, he delivered the whole bottle to Lyrn; he watched as he took a long pull.

Lyrn hissed. “That’s sweet.”

Lance chuckled. “It tastes like juice, doesn’t it? It’s a traditional Altean draught that someone brought to me during the last conference. I wanted to save it for a special night.”

“What’s special about tonight?”

Lance shrugged. “Nothing, I just felt like drinking it.”

Chuckling, Lyrn kissed Lance’s cheek. “Well, every night is special with you darling.” He took another pull. “It’s growing on me.” He yawned.

“Don’t go falling asleep on me,” Lance flicked his chest. “The second part of the surprise is coming up.”

“Oh? What’s that?”

“Let go of me so I can change. I think you’ll like this new outfit of mine.”

He slipped away from Lyrn to the bathroom, shutting the door behind him.

This was Keith’s chance—he figured he had two, three dobashes before Lance returned; he’d take care of the problem in one.

Without a sound, he opened the closet door. It was dark, with only the red light from the planet’s moon drifting in through sheer curtains. Still, he could easily see Lyrn, leaning against the headboard and taking yet another large sip of wine. The closet was completely in the dark, so Keith knew he couldn’t be seen—it was the only time he was thankful for his half-Galran heritage, as his vision, especially at night, gave him the upper hand in most situations.

Lyrn yawned, long and loud. Another sip. He shut his eyes, and… snored? Keith fought the urge to snicker. Leave it to an old man to fall asleep when his young lover was still preparing himself.

He snuck to the side of the bed, withdrawing a knife from his waistband. It was a unique artifact, as it could take the form of a sword at will, but for tonight’s purposes, he hardly needed something so obtrusive. He drew back his arm, aiming for the exposed jugular.

The sound of a gun being cocked broke his focus, and he froze.

“Drop the knife, Keith.” Lance had returned. Keith was attentive to the fact that he hadn’t changed, or even removed a single article from his person, despite his words to the contrary.

Keith did no such thing, instead leaping to the side and rolling behind an armchair. He threw a sharp needle toward Lance, just as the man shot a silent bullet at Keith’s hand. Lance’s shot managed to land, knocking Keith’s knife away from him and under the nightstand.

He cursed under his breath, the heat from the bullet having singed his glove. It was a lucky shot, he insisted.

“You picked a poor hiding spot,” Lance sang. The sound of reloading—why? Did he only have one shot?—was loud in Keith’s ears. He moved just as another shot rang out, ripping through the upholstery he fled in favor of a desk with ease. “That’s a bit better,” Lance said. “And I really don’t want to damage the oak—it’s from Terra, you know, very rare out in these parts.”

Keith wasn’t sure how to approach this; before he could get too distracted by his thoughts, he jumped up, tossing a few more poison-tipped needles at his foe.

But he wasn’t there.

Instead, he was behind him, as revealed by a sharp sting in the center of Keith’s back. How could he have been so careless? Wasn’t Lance a commoner?

He wasn’t bleeding, at least, but his limbs were growing numb.

“I’ve hit you with a mild sedative. You won’t pass out, but you won’t be able to move in a few ticks.”

Keith attempted to fight, to get in one last hit—he was cursing himself for getting caught up in this mess.

“You’ll still be able to talk, though, isn’t that neat? Perfect for me since I have a few questions for you.”

Keith slumped onto the ground, his nose painfully getting acquainted with the floor. He was surprised Lyrn was still asleep. Unless…

Lance pulled him up by the shoulder, sitting him against the end of the bed.

“Lyrn…” Keith’s mouth felt odd, like his tongue was too big for it. Still, he was, as promised, able to speak.

Lance dragged a chair over so he was facing Keith, gun placed on the arm—it was cocked. “What about him?”

“Sleeping…”

“Oh, you wondering why he’s not awake for all this?” Keith attempted to nod, but found that he couldn’t. “Well, it’s simple. I drugged him, too.”

“Why?”

“To get to you, of course. You’re a smart man, I can see, more so than your average hitman. Still, you probably didn’t anticipate all this did you?”

“No…”

“You’ve really derailed some of my plans too. What the hell were you thinking? Who hired you? The king?”

“I don’t know, I wasn’t told specifically who hired us.” His words were tumbling out of him like water from a pitcher—why couldn’t he shut up?

“’Us’? Who do you work for then?”

“The—“ he clenched his mouth shut. “What did you hit me with?”

“Well, it’s no truth serum, but it does tend to make even the most tight-lipped people a bit more loquacious. Don’t be surprised if you start spilling your biggest secrets,” he had the gall to giggle in Keith’s face. “So, anyway, who was it you said you worked for?”

“The Blade,” his mouth seemed to have a mind of its own.

“Of Marmora?” Lance frowned. “I honestly thought you guys a myth—you certainly don’t get around much in our circles.”

“We keep our operations concealed.”

“I see. Until now, that is.” He laughed. “My boss will throw a fit to hear about this. But why would you want Lyrn dead? Can’t you see that he’s a lynchpin in all this—ha! A Lyrnchpin…” Another giggle. Keith wished he could roll his eyes—“He can help us bring down Zarkon! Aren’t we on the same side here?”

“I don’t question the motives of my bosses.”

“You should. That kind of thinking is how Galra soldiers can cross the universe and commit such atrocities without batting an eye.”

“Are you really Altean?” Keith wasn’t sure why he’d asked that, but since there was little he could do to control his speaking, he figured that maybe asking his questions was the best bet in avoiding answering too many of Lance’s.

Lance tilted his head, then seemed to remember something. “Oh! That’s right—I’d almost forgotten. I suppose it doesn’t make a difference what you know. We have all night to talk, after all. I’m not Altean, but Terran.”

Keith’s eyes widened, and Lance seemed to notice. “So am I. Well, half.”

“I figured; you look it,” Lance nodded. “You don’t meet a lot of Terrans in this galaxy, do you?”

“My brother… is Terran as well. He’s with me. Waiting for me.”

Lance pouted. “Are you trying to get my sympathy by playing the family card?”

“Maybe.”

He laughed. “It’s a shame you got caught up with those Blade fellows. You’d be very welcome in Allura’s army.”

“Allura? As in…”

“That’s right, Princess Allura. I answer directly to her,” he leaned back, grinning. “We just out here, saving the universe and all, fighting back Galra one ship at a time.”

“By sleeping with people?”

Lance flushed, then cleared his throat. “It’s called a honey-pot, and it doesn’t matter what I do for the Resistance! At least I’m helping it along instead of playing right into Zarkon’s hands like you tools!”

“He’s too old for you.”

“Huh? Zarkon?”

“Lyrn.”

Lance smirked. “Oh? Are you jealous?” He slipped out of the chair and crawled toward Keith, his face almost touching Keith’s. “Don’t think I didn’t notice you watching me—wasn’t Lyrn supposed to be your mark?”

“…distracting…”

“Oh, don’t hold it in, Keith, it’ll only hurt your brain. You know, for a second I almost thought you were telling the truth, that you were just a new servant understandably falling for me. Of course, you didn’t quite follow proper etiquette when you addressed the general. Most of the servers are fellow revolutionaries and call him ‘your majesty’, and me ‘your highness’ when in his house. Why did they send you, I wonder, for this ruse? Acting is an integral part of any infiltration, and you don’t seem the type.”

“I’m the only one who can’t be recognized.”

“Why? What species is the Blade?”

“Galra.”

“Ah. Well, so much for suggesting an alliance, then.”

“They’ve rebelled.”

Lance waved his hand. “Sure, I figured that. Allura, unfortunately, is not a fan of any Galra. She’d never consider an epic team up.” He sighed. “A shame, really, it would’ve been fun to bother you some more.” He regarded Keith. “What about your brother? If he’s human, he could’ve done the job, too.”

“He’s recognizable. Shiro—“

Lance gasped. “Shiro? As in the Champion?”

“That’s right.”

He whistled low. “Wow. To be honest, I’d rather he be here than you. Your brother’s hot.”

“Shut up.”

“I guess you’re kinda cute,” he ruffled Keith’s hair playfully. “A bit of a bite, too.”

“Don’t be so patronizing.”

“I wouldn’t be if you weren’t so impulsive. You should’ve just killed the both of us, you know. It’s what I would’ve done.”

“You don’t seem the killing type.”

“You don’t even know me.”

“It’s a hunch.”

“Well, it’s not my preferred job, but I do what I must for Allura—if I agree with it, mind you.”

“What are you going to do to me?”

“I’m not sure yet. If I kill you, they’ll just send a replacement, right?”

“Yes.”

“But if I let you go, I'll be at risk.” He leaned back, lost in thought. “I could put Plan Z into effect—a pain, really. Quiznak, you’re lucky you’re cute.”

“Stop saying that.”

“Why? It’s true. My marks tend to be a bit older, so it’s nice seeing someone my age be interested.”

“Who wouldn’t be interested?”

He laughed. “Do go on, and maybe I’ll spare you.”

“You’re gorgeous.”

“Oh stop it, you,” Lance smiled, flushing, clearly not wanting for Keith to stop.

“There’s no way Lyrn could be enough for you.”

He raised a brow. “Oh? And you could?”

Keith growled, deep in his throat, a sound he was only able to make thanks to his Galra genes. “Yes.”

Lance froze, then turned aside. “Well, too bad we met under such circumstances, isn’t it?”

“It is.”

He regarded Keith for a few ticks, then sighed. “I’m going to knock you out now.”

“What? No—“

He clamped a hand over Keith’s mouth. “It’s fine. I’ll tie you up somewhere safe. Your team will surely find you before daylight breaks.”

He mumbled against Lance’s hand, which pressed harder, his fingers pinching around his noise. “Shh…” he cooed. “You’ll be fine, mullet. Hey, maybe we’ll meet sometime in the future, then you can prove yourself to me.” The last thing Keith saw before passing out was Lance’s obnoxious smirk.

 

* * *

 

A few moon cycles had passed since Keith bungled the mission on Orinma, but he thankfully hadn’t gotten reprimanded for it. He wasn’t sure how Lance had managed it, but by the time Keith came too, tied up in a laundry-basket beneath layers of sheets in Lyrn’s basement, the coup had began, and the king’s castle was under siege. He turned on his communicator and Shiro alerted him to the futility of trying to defuse the blown powder-keg that was the capitol, and so he’d been extracted. Within a sevten, Lyrn was in power, and Orinma had officially declared war on Galra; the Resistance was now backed by Orinma’s impressive armada. He’d caught a short transmission, King Lyrn dedicating his new warship to his beloved, who’d tragically passed away in the chaos of the coup.

Keith knew better, of course. Lance had surely escaped to Allura’s own base of operations.

He’d given all of this information to the Blade, but they were unconcerned with the Resistance fighters and their ploys, instead choosing to focus attention where they always had. It was business as usual, then, though it was difficult with some of their undercover operatives falling prey to Lyrn’s clever strikes against various Galra outposts. He’d been on a number of missions in the meantime, and he’d nearly forgotten about Lance.

His current mission was simple: take out a Galran ambassador who was visiting Fruwyx, a neutral resort planet, to discuss a potential alliance with the notorious cruiser-builders, the Yops, who ruled the Tlun Cluster. It was imperative that he be taken out on that planet, as doing so while under the eye of the Yops would spell trouble for the deal. That last thing the Blade wanted was for Zarkon to get his hand on the Yops’s impressive technology.

The ambassador, Etok, was to spend three quintets in the resort. During that time, Keith was to dispose of him. He’d infiltrated the staff during the first two quintets to figure out the man’s routine, then took a guest robe for the final few vargas in an effort to get close to him in one of the treatment rooms. He’d gotten nearer in the sauna, but there’d been others there, so that was a no-go. The man enjoyed semi-private dips in the hot springs, and Keith figured his best bet would be to drown him when next he went for his swim.

He was reclining on a bench by a gently, swirling pool, mud mask baked onto his face and hair treated with special conditioner, when he noticed Etok stand and surround himself with a fluffy, white towel. If he was following his schedule, he’d head to lunch, then to the hot springs, then finally meet with the Yops for the drafting of their treaty.

He gave himself half a varga to relax and appear like any other guest before packing up and heading toward where he’d managed to stash a staff outfit. Etok wouldn’t kick people who beat him to the hot-springs out, but he’d usually post his guards at the front to discourage people from entering. He was said to be a bit of a loudmouth, too, so most people cleared out when he entered.

Keith was granted entry to the hot springs thanks to his tall stack of towels and claim that he needed to go in to clean. Past the wooden gates, he was finally alone with his mark who was humming to himself as he leaned against the edge of the pool. He was splashing idly, eyes closed. It really was too easy.

 _Remember what happened last time you thought it was too easy?_ his thoughts interrupted him. He frowned, not appreciative of the embarrassing reminder. This was nothing like that time, he insisted.

After stacking the towels, he approached his mark, mindful of the slippery surface. He crouched down behind him, breath bated. He surged forward, pressing the man beneath the water as quickly as possible.

 

* * *

 

Lance cursed under his breath when a man entered the pool area—it was finally his chance to take out Etok; he was nearing the end of his soak time, and now Lance was forced to wait for the attendant to finish his job.

The attendant had a familiar air about him… he was hooded, as most of the staff were, though from his perch beyond the spa grounds, he couldn’t make out any details aside from presumed bipedalism. The attendant finished his task and made for the exit. And then… he stopped?

Another curse, this one audible, as the man bent, hands reaching toward Etok. What the hell was he doing?

He got his answer when the man shoved Etok down under the water.

Now, Lance’s goal wasn’t simply to kill Etok; that’d be too easy. There was a reason he was dressed in Yop clothes, the mark of their internal resistance printed on his back. He was under specific instructions to take out Etok with a traditional Yop weapon—a gruesome, exploding bullet—in order to disrupt negotiations as well as provoke the Yop government to raise a hand to their rebels, who were finally primed to fight back.

Not seeing much choice, he pulled the trigger. The bullet met its mark, and the attendant narrowly avoided the splash of blood that was flooding the area.

Lance leapt to his feet, making sure the cameras caught him before he made his escape.

 

* * *

 

When he heard the shot, Keith immediately launched himself backward. The shot had been followed by blood, and he scrambled to where he should’ve been, near the towels. He did what any attendant would do in that situation, and screamed.

He escaped interrogation and death with a convincing act—he faked being too frazzled to answer their questions, and since he clearly didn’t have a weapon on him and the trajectory implied a sniper, he was free to go home. Before the workers could recognize him as an outsider, he fled the grounds.

News of Etok’s murder had already spread by the time he was on board the Blade’s castle ship, only a few vargas after the act.

“I don’t understand,” Shiro frowned. “Who else knew he was on Fruwyx? I thought our source was confidential.”

“Our intel came from the Galra side of operations. There are rumors that it was a Yop sniper who did the job. Probably a different source with the same information.”

“They were caught on camera in Yop clothes, yes, and we know that there are a number of Yops who despise the treaty with Galra… but that seems much too obvious to me. It was almost sloppy—like the sniper wanted to get caught.”

“Those rebels will be facing death because of this—who would act to endanger them in that way?”

“I don’t know… I only hope the rebels are ready for the aftermath, whether it was them or not.” Shiro sighed. “It wasn’t part of the plan, but the Blade is satisfied that the treaty’s been disrupted regardless. Now Galra won’t work with Yop until they squash their insurgents.”

Vargas later, their ship was still close to Fruwyx, and Keith’s inner curiosity was nagging him to return. With his superior’s permission, he took a private shuttle to the surface.

The detectives had long since gone home, only a ring of tape warning hikers of the crime scene. After putting the buzzing video cameras on a loop, Keith snuck past the fragile barrier and made his way toward the tree in question. He leapt up, positioning himself just as the sniper had, he was sure. Taking out his own scope, he zoomed in on the spring.

It was certainly a tough shot—Keith doubted that he could’ve made it; it had been smooth too, sliding clean through the man’s temple like a hot knife through butter. Before they’d been ship-builders, the Yops had excelled at ranged combat. Still, he knew it had been decapheebs since they had practiced those arts.

Why didn’t the sniper just let Keith kill the man? Surely he’d seen Keith’s intent. They must have wanted to send a message, then. It was likely not the Yop rebels, but an agent whose goal had been similar to the Blade’s. A flash of blue sparkled in his periphery, and he glanced at the ground. What looked to be a sapphire stared up at him, dulled by mud but still visible to his eyes.

He climbed down the tree, crouching to look at the jewel. He’d guess it was an earring, but there was something… familiar about it.

As he stared at the sapphire, memories of blue eyes, just as vivid as any jewel, flooded his mind. He froze, thinking quickly back to that night on Orinma. Despite the numerous baubles adorning him, he’d thought it odd that the man, Lance, had selected such simple earrings, a single stone on a golden post. He plucked the jewelry from among the leaves.

A twig snapped just at the edge of his hearing, and he turned toward the sound. He couldn’t see through the thicket of trees, but he could hear sure footsteps stalking ever closer.

By the time he could see the newcomer, Keith was hidden in the boughs above, leering down at the figure. It was the sniper, he could easily tell, or at least someone in similar garb—were they really so confident as to stroll into the scene of their crime only a quintet after they’d made their escape?

Apparently so, as their gait never slowed—they were even humming! They only slowed when they neared their tree, bending over to search the leaves that Keith had already cleared.

He fell behind the man without a sound. He took out his sword, pressing the tip to the nape of his neck.

“Don’t move.”

The sniper froze, then laughed. “Fuck,” he said simply.

“Raise your hands—slowly. No funny business.”

“Not a man for jokes?”

“Hardly.”

He raised his arms. Reaching forward, Keith grabbed the small pistol at his waist, though he knew it probably wasn’t their only weapon.

“Rude,” they commented.

“Who are you with?” Keith asked.

The man turned slightly, then smiled. Keith couldn’t make out his face, as he wore a pair of round glasses—odd, given the goggles on top of his head.

“Keith?” he asked.

Keith glared. So it was Lance. Perfect. “I should kill you right now.”

“What for? I’m just out here looking for something I dropped.”

“You killed my mark. And caused a war.”

“The Yops were the one asking for a war. And what do you mean?” His eyes widened. “You! You were the pool boy!”

“We prefer to be called spa attendants. We improve the experience for guests.”

“I apologize.”

“Why are you back here?”

“As I said, I dropped something rather sentimental to me.”

“Turn around,” Keith ordered. Lance complied, his hands still raised. He removed the earring from his pocket. “Are you looking for this?”

Lance grinned. “That’s it! So, how about you just hand it over and we’ll both be on our ways.”

“I don’t think so.”

He pouted. “Why not? I didn’t kill you last time, did I?”

“You fucked up my mission beyond repair.”

“It wasn’t personal—just business.”

“As is this.”

“You gonna turn me in? Do you _want_ Zarkon to ally with the Yops?”

“Of course not—to your second question. I haven’t decided what to do with you yet. It’s unsettling that someone else has access to the same intel we do.”

“Is it? I find it comforting. You’d have gotten my sloppy seconds if I had somehow flubbed my mission—which would never happen, mind you, I’m nowhere near as sloppy as you,” he smirked.

“You really want to tease me right now?”

“It’s kind of my thing,” he shrugged.

Keith stared—he really had no idea what to do with Lance. He wasn’t sure what good would come of taking him back to the Blade; his people also probably knew where he’d gone and would come looking for him if he didn’t get back soon. Surely he had some kind of tracker on him, anyway.

Keith took a step back, Lance’s own pistol trained on the oddly-disguised sniper. “I’m going to leave you. If you don’t follow me, I’ll consider us even.”

“Can I have my earring back at least?”

“No.”

 

* * *

 

An alarmingly short amount of time passed before Keith met Lance again. He’d just returned to his ship after a quick pit stop on the planet they’d been resting at for the past few quintets. Most of the others were still out, stretching their legs and getting some good food in their bellies, but Keith had been a bit overwhelmed by the sheer number of people in town and so had announced that he’d be retiring for the night. They were used to him being a bit more reclusive than most, so he was dismissed with nods and polite “goodbyes”.

Walking into his single room, he felt something was off. He immediately reached for his knife and zeroed in on the presence that was disturbing him.

“What the hell are you doing here?” he yelled. On his bed, Lance’s eyes shot open.

His arms flailed, the momentum nearly sending him over the edge—had he actually been napping there, of all places? “Oh, hey, you’re back,” he smiled.

“I repeat: what the hell are you doing here? Do you have a death wish?”

“I think that’s beside the point,” he sat up, spreading his arms as if to show that he meant no harm. “I come in peace?”

“How did you find me?”

He pointed toward Keith’s head, more specifically his ear. Keith had taken to wearing the stolen piece, a bit smug at having bested Lance.

Keith paled, cursing his cocky sentiment. “It’s a tracking device.”

“That’s right, samurai.” Lance put his hands behind his head and leaned back onto the pillows. “I was surprised you took the bait so easily, but it’s no matter.”

“You’ve been tracking our movements… this whole time.”

“Well, it hasn’t been that long, so you shouldn’t feel too bad. But, yes, I did see where your travels took you. Lucky that you spent some time in the Hudsin Nebula, by the way. Not sure what was out there that had to do with the war, though, but everyone deserves a vacation every once in a while.”

Keith decided that if Lance was going to hurt him, he already would have. He crossed the few remaining steps to his bed and tapped his legs in an effort to get him to scootch over. He did, so Keith sat beside him.

“The Blade does a lot more than just fight Zarkon. We rely on other work to supply our income.”

Lance raised a brow. “You’re mercs for hire, then? For anyone?”

“For anyone with money who isn’t connected to Zarkon, yes.”

“That’s a waste of your talents.” He poked Keith’s side. “How old are you anyway?”

“Not sure.”

“I’ll assume we’re about the same age. Maybe you’re a bit older, I don’t know.”

“Why am I older?”

“Because I’m prettier, so I must be younger. Besides, I have a thing for older men.”

Keith flushed. He’d almost forgotten about the night they’d met and the… things he’d said that he’d rather he hadn’t. “What’s your angle, Lance?”

“Oh, I look nice from every angle.”

“You know that’s not what I’m asking.”

Another shrug. “Can you blame a guy for being interested in someone?”

“You stalked me across the cosmos.”

“Well… when you put it like that...” He pouted. “I didn’t mean to come off creepily.”

“Don’t you have work to be doing?”

“Well, after the last mission, I requested some time off. Allura is pretty accommodating for me, so she allowed it. I stuck with her on the ship, sat in on meetings and whatnot, but I was allowed to leave whenever I felt like it.”

“Sounds nice.”

“Well, you guys have been camped here for a while, so you must be on some sort of leave, yourself, right?”

“Sort of. We’re just restocking for another long trip. We still have responsibilities in the city.”

“That blows.”

“It’s life.” Keith leaned back. They were laying side by side, not touching. The air wasn’t tense, surprisingly. If anything, it was calm.

Lance yawned loudly. He turned on his side, his head landing on Keith’s chest. “Mind if I stay the night?”

“Whatever. So long as you don’t snore.”

“You won’t even notice I’m here.”

Keith did in fact notice Lance was there, as his body was burning up when he woke a few vargas later, completely tangled with the lanky-limbed man. Still, once he removed Lance’s legs from his own and settled back in, it was honestly the best he’d slept in a long time. When he woke in the morning, Lance was gone, but a communicator remained in his place.

 

* * *

 

Lance was the first to contact Keith, requesting that they meet up on neutral grounds to discuss the possibility of an alliance. He’d been suggesting the idea to Allura, and she was slowly starting to warm up to the idea of working with the Blade. Of course, he’d kept it under wraps that they were defected Galra, which is why he’d need Keith and Shiro to be the point people.

Keith rejected his first few invitations, saying that it was a foolish plan to send two of their finest operatives into the hands of an unknown player such as Lance. On the third ask, Keith agreed, though he went without Shiro.

The spot they chose was a frigid ice ball of a planet, nestled at the central point between their two ships. Technically it was nothing more than a moon, but its population was even greater than the rock around which it orbited so the locals rarely classified it as such. He hadn’t told anyone his whereabouts, and they hadn’t asked. Lance was in a similar situation.

Lance waited in the agreed-upon location patiently, playing games on his small tablet that Pidge had installed at his request. Keith was running late, and he was fearing that the man might just stand him up.

Finally, Keith entered the lobby, quickly brushing off the snow from his down-filled coat. Lance sighed, stood, then smiled.

“Look what the storm brought in,” he smirked. “I was getting worried you weren’t gonna show up.”

“Wasn’t expecting this kind of weather,” Keith confessed. “You picked an interesting spot.”

“I like coming here. The rooms at this particular hotel have a view worth dying for!” Perhaps not the right word choice, judging by Keith’s slight glare. “Here, follow me. Did you bring a bag?”

“No, it’s only a night,” Keith crossed his arms. “Did you?”

“Of course, but I’m already settled upstairs. We got a pretty nice suite on the top floor—can you believe it?”

“I suppose I can.”

“You seem grumpy.” Lance headed toward the elevator. “How’s everything been?”

“About the same as the last time you messaged me.”

“You Blade fellows should lighten up a bit; they make you work too much.”

“We’re in a war.”

Lance shrugged. They entered the elevator and he selected the highest floor. “Still, you’re young—I’m guessing. Breaks are important.”

Keith chose not to respond. Instead, they made the rest of their trip in silence. Using a metal key, Lance unlocked their room; Keith was honestly surprised to see two beds.

“Nice, isn’t it?” Lance gestured grandly. “All expenses paid—we could do the spa package, order anything to eat—”

“Lance,” Keith interrupted. “We should get to business, shouldn’t we? You said you wanted to discuss something with me.”

He frowned. “So boring.” Regardless, his smile quickly returned. He walked toward his own bags that had been thrown in a corner and bent over to retrieve a dense file. “Allura suggested that, as a show of friendship, I help you with acquiring a particularly precious jewel.”

Keith’s eyes widened subtly, but he tried not to betray any emotion—how could they have known about their recent, elusive target? “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Don’t play dumb,” Lance chuckled. “It’s just easier if we’re forthright. I’ll start: I know that you’ve been chasing after the Madame Elazud’s fortune for ages. I understand your struggle, she doesn’t go off-planet much, and her paranoia makes breaking into her palace rather difficult—she hasn’t hired new staff in pheebs, so infiltration is hardly an option, unfortunate since that’s your specialty.

“I also know that the Madame’s cousin recently passed away. They weren’t particularly close, but decorum calls for her attendance at their funeral, which, as luck would have it, is tonight on this very moon.”

Keith highly doubted luck had anything to do with it, but he let Lance continue. “The wake will be held at an exclusive club in our neighborhood. I have a bit of a… connection to this club already and can get in easily. My former employers would hardly mind if I brought a guest.”

Keith raised a brow. “Former employers?”

Lance shrugged. “It’s not a big deal—I’ve always had a way with entertaining clients. Spent a pheeb or so here when I was younger. It’s how I met Allura, if you believe it. Anyway, what do you say?”

“I say you overestimate your skills. The Madame is notorious for being antisocial. Why would she be interested in a stranger at a club while mourning the death of her cousin?”

“You also seem to forget that she is happily coupled with one of her oldest advisors; thankfully, she won’t be here tonight.”

“So, your plan for the Blade to trust your organization is to try and seduce a lesbian then steal her jewelry for us?”

“That’s correct.”

“Well, I’m sure you’re aware that her most valuable jewels are the crowns of her parents which are kept in her home.”

“Sure, but a woman with such tastes will always have fancy baubles on hand. Why, her family owns a particularly fashionable mourning veil lined with charred diamonds from the sun mines of Hjungth.”

“Is that supposed to mean something?”

Lance gasped. “They’re only the most exquisite of diamonds this side of the Pluon Belt!”

“Right….” Keith sat on the bed, both tired from his journey and the prospect of a job. “Well, I suppose at the very least it could be entertaining to watch you fail. But, I’m not exactly prepared for a mission.”

“Not a problem! You can borrow a suit of mine if you wanna play guest; or, alternatively, I bet I could get you behind the bar, assuming you even know how to serve up some drinks.”

 

* * *

 

“And then…” Lance leaned closer to the Madame, whispering theatrically. She seemed completely taken with his story. “The man jumps onto the parade float passing below his window!”

She chuckled. Turning to face him, she dropped a jewel-covered hand on his arm. “You lead a fascinating life, Lance.”

He shrugged. Keith fought the urge to roll his eyes at his overdone wink—he couldn’t guess why anyone found Lance so charming. He was quick to dish out compliments, layered on the flirting unnaturally, and was much too touchy. He had good looks, that was for sure, but Keith felt his personality to be lacking. The Madame had been chilly with him at first, but after Lance whispered something in her ear, she had become much more attentive. From then on, Keith had been forced to watch the pair batting their eyelashes, serving them drinks all the while.

“Another drink, bartender,” she smiled at Keith, her eyes never leaving Lance’s.

“If I had to guess I’d say you were trying to get me drunk,” Lance laughed.

“So what if I am?” she giggled. Keith handed her her drink, placing Lance’s on the bar in front of him. She slipped off of her stool, patting Lance’s arm. “To my room, then?”

“Sure, let me close out my tab real quick,” he gave her hand a squeeze. Turning, she strode toward the exit leading to the hotel’s opulent foyer.

Lance winked at Keith. “Didn’t I tell you I could seduce anyone in the room?”

He finally did roll his eyes. “Whatever. It’s not a success till you get the jewels.”

Lance pouted. “You’re not even a little impressed?”

“You two spent half of the time teasing me so, no, not really.”

Laughing, Lance slid a few bills across the counter. “Well, next time, then. Don’t wait up for me, Keithy boy.” A final wink, paired with a quick salute, and he was gone.

The wake had been winding down for a while, and since the most distinguished guest had taken her leave, the rest of the guests saw no reason to keep up appearances. They started clearing out, and Keith set about sweeping the bar area. Lance’s old boss had been quite impressed by his professionalism, even offering him a full-time gig before he left.

Once outside the hotel, he was surprised to see Lance, the Madame’s decorative fur stole over his own thin shoulders.

“What’s this?” he asked, stopping in front of Lance.

He smiled down at him. “It’s called efficiency.”

“You were that quick, then? Poor woman.”

With a huff, he crossed his arms. “There’s no impressing you, is there?”

Keith shrugged. “I’ll admit you have some skills, but anyone can sleep with someone.”

“You, too, then?” he raised a brow.

Keith stepped past him. “That’s none of your business.”

Lance threw an arm around his shoulders, pulling him closer in the cool evening air. “You should be happy. I, for one, am feeling pretty celebratory.”

“How was the Madame, anyway?” Keith asked.

“Oh, exquisite. She’s a brilliant woman. She invited me to meet her girlfriend someday, too.”

Keith scoffed. “How shameless. You’re perfect for each other then.”

“Jealousy, thy name is Keith.”

“Me? Jealous? Of what? Mindless sex?”

“Oh, you’re precious!” Lance laughed. “You think I had sex with her?”

Keith paused, glancing sideways. “You didn’t?”

“Of course not. She’s very much in love.”

“Then what was that? You went to her room together.”

“The Madame is an interesting woman. She has some very interesting hobbies.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Besides," he continued, ignoring Keith's confused look. "I wanted to sleep with her as much as she wanted to sleep with me—that is to say, not at all.”

“I’m lost,” Keith confessed.

Lance quickly spun so that he was facing Keith. “I did say that I could seduce anyone in the room, you know.”

“I recall.”

“But, I was admittedly a bit side-tracked.”

“On our important ‘bonding mission’?”

“That’s right.”

“You’re reckless. The Blade would never agree to work with someone like you!”

“But would you?”

“Excuse me?”

“Forget about what the Blade wants for a tick. You gotta admit, we make a good team.”

“What are you playing at, Lance?”

“Keith,” his eyes were focused intently on Keith’s own. Keith froze, caught up in his stare.

It took him a few ticks to realize that Lance’s eyes were no longer open; they’d gotten much closer. He spotted Lance’s lips just before they were on his.

He pressed back immediately, though he couldn’t understand why in that moment. Still, when Lance’s fingers tangled in his hair, instead of remembering his obnoxious lines and winks sent toward the Madame, he remembered each smile Lance had directed his way, his witty remarks and unbridled confidence, both at the bar and when fighting him.

Pulling away, Lance took Keith by the wrist, tugging him down the road and toward their hotel. Keith resisted, frowning.

“What’s wrong?” Lance asked.

“What are we doing, Lance? This is dumb.”

“Maybe. But, in my humble and completely correct opinion, dumb things can be some of the most fun things to do.”

Keith mumbled under his breath.

“What was that?”

“I said if dumb things are fun to do, I’m lucky to have met someone as dumb as you.”

Lance let out a hearty laugh. “Oh, so you’ve got jokes, do you? Well, deprecate me all you want, I can take it.” He winked. “I can take anything you throw at me, samurai.”

Keith chuckled. “We’ll see if that’s true. Lead the way, then.”

 

* * *

 

Returning to his base with a number of the Madame’s jewels and furs—gifts she’d apparently given to Lance during their brief gossip session that had transformed into a long-distance friendship that still confused Keith greatly—had been one of his proudest moments, even if he’d been forced to lie to Shiro about how he’d managed to get his hand on them. The Blade thankfully didn’t ask questions, instead accepting them and immediately contacting their buyer in order to get the credits as soon as possible.

His night with Lance had been nothing short of spectacular, though he hated to admit it—he’d told Lance it was “alright”, but Lance’s smirk hinted that he may have been aware of the truth. They’d parted later in the afternoon, Lance helping him pack away the jewels while carrying on with his usual teasing. Keith had initially been annoyed that he’d fallen for someone so annoying, but even he could see that the man had a particularly strong and persistent charm; he was well-suited for his lot in life, it seemed.

Several galaxies away, Lance too was content with a job well done, even if guilt was starting to creep in a bit; he hadn’t figured that he’d do something as reckless as fall for his mark, and yet… he couldn’t escape the picture of Keith and his stupid mullet, hovering above him as they sealed their… whatever the hell they were... in their suite.

Of course, it may have been easier to forget about the Blade agent if he wasn’t stuck briefing Allura on everything that had happened concerning Keith.

“So, after the Fruwyx fiasco?” she prompted, noticing that Lance had gotten a bit distracted by his thoughts.

“Huh?” he startled. “Oh, right! So, yeah, he had my tracker, so I could follow him—er, the Blade—while they worked. I didn’t think such a thing would be the most useful, so I had Pidge rig up a little transmission device which I planted on their ship when I visited him. With it, we’ve been able to see all that the Blade does, which gave me my in with the Madame; I knew that they wanted her jewels and that she was related to the Count who we’ve wanted dead for quite some time. Their death and funeral were easy enough to facilitate.”

She nodded. “Right, and then?”

“I met with him on Jir’s moon under the guise of an alliance, which he bought. Getting the jewels from the Madame was easy, once I took advantage of her gambling problem. All I had to do was bet that I could seduce the disinterested barkeep—Keith, of course—and she’d give me everything she’d brought. She wasn’t aware that we knew each other, and she thought we’d make a ‘handsome pair’ anyway. She’s rich enough that the loss wasn’t even a huge blow; I met up with her briefly in the morning to share the, er, good news, as it was, and she handed over everything.”

“And has Keith gone to the Blade, yet? With your proposal?”

“I don’t think so. He still thinks we’re too careless to team up.”

“Good. I still think we should keep an eye on the Blade before a potential alliance. In the meantime, carry on this partnership with Keith. Help him if he needs, and perhaps reach out to him for help, as well.”

“Understood.”

“I’m sure you know that I don’t approve of the Blade’s actions. Their agents’ covers run deep, too deep. It’s disconcerting that some are so close to Zarkon.”

“You must admit that it’s impressive.”

“I’d be more impressed if their men weren’t responsible for harming civilians.”

Lance winced. “No ‘end justifies the means’, then?”

“In this case, I think not.” She stood, a cold stare set on her face. “Treat Keith as you would any mark, then. We will keep an eye on the Blade through him and Pidge’s device until such time I deem them a threat, at which point—“

“We take them out,” he leaned back. “Don’t stress, Princess, I know the drill.”

“Of course. Now, I need to get to this meeting.”

He nodded. “Good luck. Say ‘hi’ to Shay for me, will you?”

Flushing slightly, Allura gave her own nod. “Good luck on your next mission. Don’t get caught.”

“I’ll only be in Galra territory, don’t be so worried,” he chuckled, though Allura looked far from amused.

After she left, Lance headed to his own chambers, close to the Princess’s; they’d known each other long enough, after all, that they were practically family. He threw himself onto his bed, pulling his tablet out from under his pillow. He activated the communicator option, sending a video message to Keith. He answered quickly, though appeared annoyed.

“Keith!” Lance grinned. “How are you?”

“Tired,” he responded flatly. “What do you need?”

“Is that any way to greet your boyfriend?” he sniffed loudly, wiping at nonexistent tears.

“Oh, you’re my boyfriend now?”

“You wound me so.”

Keith chuckled, shifting on his own bed. His hair looked wet— _cute_ , Lance thought. “How’s the ship?”

“Great! Tons of meetings and getting yelled at for spending so much money on planet.”

He laughed. “That sucks. I’m glad my bosses don’t talk to me outside of giving me orders.”

“They should trust you more. You’re a very capable person—kinda smart at times, even.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“Well, I wanted to call you because… I have a mission coming up. It might be dangerous, and I don’t know when I’ll be back.”

“Oh,” Keith frowned. “What kind of mission?”

“Typical assassination. The difficult thing is that I’ll be within Galra area, technically.”

“What?” he yelled. “That’s crazy!”

“I mean, it’s just an arms outpost… so it’s on, like, the border.”

“Who’s your mark?”

“I can’t say.”

Keith growled. “I don’t like this. You’re going alone?”

“It’s best that way; I know you probably think my talents are much better suited for the dancefloor or bedroom—“ Keith rolled his eyes. “—but I’m proud to say that I’m a pretty damn good shot. If anyone can pull this off, it’s me.”

“’If’? So you realize that there’s a risk.”

“I mean, of course. There always is in our line of work.”

“I won’t even be able to message you?”

He shook his head. “I’ll be leaving my tech here. But, you really shouldn’t worry. Just keep your ears open for news of the Galra army suffering a serious blow and be proud, okay?”

“I still don’t feel good about this.”

Lance sighed. “I’ll be back online in a few quintets, alright? Don’t be too down.”

“I do have my own work, too, you know,” he glared at his pillow. “Not like I’m just sitting here waiting up for you.”

He laughed. “That’s a nice thought, actually—maybe someday, after the war.”

“As if either of us are suited for something so domestic.”

“You’re right,” Lance’s smile was strained. “Another life, then. Well, I take off in a varga. I just wanted to say ‘see you later’.”

“Lance…” Keith began, not sure where he even wanted to go with his sentence. He cleared his throat. “Just… be safe.”

“Of course, when have I ever not been careful?”

Keith chuckled. “Aim straight, sharp-shooter.”

“Goodnight, samurai.” The screen went black.

Keith leaned back in his bed, releasing the frustrated groan he’d been holding in during the call. He knew it was stupid—Lance was an agent, they were in a war, it was to be expected. Still, he'd never guess that he’d be so concerned with someone else’s safety. For so long, it had only ever been Shiro that he’d be worried about. With Lance it was almost worse since he had no idea where he even was. If anything went wrong… it’d be too late for him to even do anything about it.

The next morning, he was given an assignment that seemed easy enough; with the help of Shiro and a small team of agents, he was to take out an old Galra outpost, along with everyone inside. He thought nothing of it until they neared the base and he realized that it was much more populated than the briefing had suggested.

“What is this place?” Keith asked Shiro. “I thought it was just an observational post.”

“That’s what the briefing said,” Shiro frowned, pulling away from the scope of his rifle. “This looks more like… a storage place?”

“Maybe a research facility,” Keith noted, his own scope pointed at a number of crates bearing gas tanks. “Either way, we don’t have the fire power for this big of an operation.”

“Unless,” Shiro pointed toward a well-lit building, a large ship docked just out front.

“Is that what I think it is?”

“Battle cruiser with planet annihilating cannons? Yup.”

“So, just gotta take that and then blow the whole thing.”

“Sounds good to me. I’m going to contact base first, update them on the situation. You hold position here; don’t brief the men, I’ll take care of that.”

“I was hardly jumping for the opportunity to give a speech,” he chuckled.

Shiro shook his head, smiling. “I’ll be back, hold tight.”

While Shiro placed his call, Keith continued to observe the base. From what he’d been able to see, it was a research lab, with most of the delivered supplies being either food or equipment. He had yet to see anything that was itself a weapon, and even the soldiers were few and far between. Instead, it was heavily populated by unarmed civilians, scientists, if he had to wager a guess.

A large boom sounded just beyond his sight-line. He tensed, zooming in as much as possible for a hint of what had happened. Instead of scrambling, the civilians seemed unaffected by the blast, even as its mushroom cloud extended higher and higher into the sky. A number of them stared, but they stood still, jotting down things in their notebooks. A few even clapped at the display.

Keith realized where they were just as Shiro returned.

“It’s a weapons testing facility,” Keith noted.

“That’s what the Blade guesses, too. They had no idea this place even existed.”

“An arms outpost…” the words were heavy in his mouth, the implication even more weighty in his gut. “How deep are we in Galra territory?”

“Not very deep at all, actually. Borderlands. The next planet over is free, I know, since they’re the ones who hired us.”

What were the odds, he thought to himself, was it actually possible that he and Lance could be put on the same planet? “Who’s in charge here?”

“We don’t know, and we don’t really have time to find out, either. If they’re here developing weapons, it’d be best to strike as soon as possible. We can get back to base before the quintet is up.”

“But…” Keith struggled to think of an excuse. “The scientists! They’re civilians, aren’t they? And, they must have test subjects. We can’t just blow the whole planet—it could release harmful gas into the atmosphere.”

“Didn’t peg you as an environmentalist. What’s wrong?”

“I just think we should wait for a little bit… maybe there’s someone important in there—they probably don’t just have the one research outpost, right? If we could find information on the others. That would be good for us,”

Shiro stared at him, long and hard. Keith fought to keep his face neutral, but he doubted his brother would fall for the ruse. He sighed. “I don’t know what’s wrong with you, but I trust your judgment. We’ll observe for another few vargas, maybe try to get a little closer. In half a quintet, we’ll make our decision, got it?”

“Yes, sir.”

 

* * *

 

Things were certainly not going according to plan, Lance mused, wincing at the sensation of blood pooling in his swollen mouth. Of course, the pain of the beating had been pretty intense, but he’d long since grown numb to it. He could only feel the strong pulsing beneath battered skin, and he honestly couldn’t tell which was worse: the pain as it was happening or the burning sensation that came after.

“It really doesn’t matter if you don’t wish to talk,” his newest friend and interrogator looked on with a cruel smile. “We know who you are and who you represent, and thus why you are here. I didn’t think anyone would be stupid enough to fall into this trap so easily, yet here you are. It’s funny, really.”

“Like I said, I’m just a tourist,” his smile triggered a wave of pain to pass over his face.

Across from him, the young Galra woman stood. She approached him and grabbed him by the chin, ripping his head to the side. “Don’t lie to me anymore. I don’t find it as amusing as you seem to think. Now, you will tell me where Allura is, or I will break your arm.”

“God, you’re real ugly, you know that?”

She laughed. “As if I care for the opinion of a human—your species is absolutely repulsive. Well, we can save info on Allura for last; before then, I’d also like to know how you knew that I would be at this outpost.”

“Well, pests like you are always attracted to shit, so—“

She punched his swollen nose.

“Fuck…” he groaned. “Give a man a warning, will you?”

“Only ten people knew that I was conducting my research here. I’m very interested to know which of them revealed my whereabouts to the Resistance.”

“Why don’t you just kill them all?” he suggested. “Ten galra dead is no skin off my nose.”

“That is an efficient option, but sloppy—I’d hate to have to arrange nine funerals for my loyal subordinates. Instead, you’ll tell me who it was.”

“Or?”

“You are an adept agent; based on how your body is reacting to my poisons, you’ve trained yourself against the more conventional serums. Of course, I’m a chemist and as such I have a number of unique poisons I could try. But, you seem the type who’d just love to die a martyr, so I don’t think threatening you would be the proper course of action.

“So, I’ll threaten the lives of the many prisoners we keep here.” She turned to a posted guard, waving her hand. “Bring in the first prisoner.” With a nod, he opened the door and grabbed the nearest person; they were undernourished, dressed in too-large clothes and unrecognizable under all the grime. "After all, it was them who lured you in; you just had to play the hero, didn't you?"

“I really don’t think this is necessary,” Lance began. “You’ll end up with more bodies than you know what to deal with. I’m simply a foot soldier—I don’t know who gives up all this information!” he was a good actor, and he knew it.

His interrogator also seemed to suspect as much. She pushed the prisoner to his knees in front of her. “For this demonstration,” she began, pulling a long syringe from inside her sleeve. “My guest will be experiencing the pain brought by a rather rare herb I discovered on my last trip to Prow. It’s well known for how slowly it kills a man.” She jabbed the needle into his shoulder and pushed the plunger. 

In front of his eyes, the man fell to his side, his muscles tensed. He cried out, attempting to move his arms but failing.

“As you can see, the body is essentially immobilized by its own muscle contraction. The person loses the ability to control their movements, and within dobashes they suffer permanent muscle damage, akin to running for too long without rest.”

Lance shook his head. “Stop, I swear I don’t know anything!” he fought against his restraints, just as the man before him fought to relax his body.

“Eventually, the muscle contractions grow too powerful for the bones to handle. I’ve seen many people unwittingly break their own bones while under the influence. The shards tend to get stuck in the muscle fibers, of course, and the continued strain really brings out the screams.”

The man’s face was clearly pained, but he couldn’t seem to move his mouth anymore.

“They can’t talk very well, unfortunately, but I think it makes the noises nicer, don’t you? They’re rawer, more natural.”

“Go to hell,” Lance spat. “You should just kill me, I can’t tell you anything!”

“Oh, but it’s so fun to see you tear up—just like that, yes!” Lance tore his gaze away, cursing himself for letting a tear surface. She laughed. “And, I have all the time in the world, so we’re just getting started.”

 

* * *

 

 Keith couldn’t pin down _why_ he felt so uneasy, and it was annoying Shiro to no end.

“I’ve already indulged you your stakeout, Keith,” he reminded him through clenched teeth. “We can get the plane easily—everyone’s gone inside. Stop delaying this.”

“And don’t you think it’s weird that everyone’s inside?”

“They’re working, something you and I should be doing as well!”

“But, what’s different from yesterday? Why were they out and about then?”

“Does it matter?”

“Whose ship is that, anyway? It’s gotta be someone important!”

“Then it’d be great to kill them with one blast.”

“We haven’t even confirmed it, though.”

“Keith,” Shiro barked. “I’m sorry to do this, but we need to get out of here. You’re already putting us at risk as is. Now I order you to tell me what is going on with you.”

He frowned, fiddling with his knife in order to avoid Shiro’s gaze. “You know how I went to Jir for a bit.”

 

“When you got the Madame’s jewels? Yes, I recall.”

“Well, I wasn’t alone there. I met someone—we’d met before actually.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Remember Orinma? That Resistance fighter, Lance… I met up with him.”

Shiro sighed. “And why, pray tell, would you do something so reckless?”

“He was the Yop assassin, on Fruwyx—well, not actually Yop, obviously. We just… started talking after that. About a potential alliance. It was only because of him that I got the Madame’s jewels—he got them, actually.”

“Alright… I assume there’s a point to this story.”

He cleared his throat. “Things got a bit heated, between us. I mean, there was always some tension, but that night—“

“I don’t wanna know.”

“Right. Well. Since then, we’ve talked; messaged, called, everything.”

“Keith…”

“The night before we left for this mission, he called me saying he’d be away for a few quintets. He had a job to take out someone in Galra territory. At a weapons outpost.”

After a few silent ticks, he finally chanced a glance at his brother. Through the disappointment, he saw sorrow.

“Keith. I… I’m not sure what to say. We can’t know that he’s here.”

“We could,” he interrupted. “I could infiltrate, try and find out whose ship that is, and if they truly are important like I think, then I’d be willing to bet that Lance is here, too.”

He shook his head. “It’s far too risky to send you in. We don’t know the layout, we’re completely blind.”

“I know how cruisers are formatted. At the very least, let me check it out.”

“This is reckless, even for you.”

“I know.”

“Will you even listen to me?”

“I can’t. I just… I feel like he’s close.”

“I can’t believe you fell for a Resistance fighter. Wasn’t he acting as a honey-pot to Lyrn? Who’s to say he hasn’t been playing you this whole time?”

“Trust me, if anyone’s surprised about this whole thing, it’s me. We barely even know each other, honestly. He’s loud and brash, blindly loyal and self-destructive. He’s a shameless flirt who kills through a scope, in a completely dishonorable way. He may be playing me like a fool, it’s certainly a move he’d be capable of pulling.” He shook his head. “I’d have been better off not having confronted him on Fruwyx, since he’s been distracting me ever since.”

Despite the negative words, Shiro caught the small smile on Keith’s face. “You really care for this guy?”

“I do.”

“And you think he’s here?”

“Yes.”

Shiro leaned back, pulling his hand down his face. “I can’t believe I’m saying this.” Keith stood, already knowing what Shiro was going to say. “Just don’t be an idiot. And if you turn your earpiece off for one second you’re dead to me.”

“Thank you, Shiro!” Scooping up his gear, Keith made for the door. Shiro pulled him into a quick embrace.

“Good luck, Keith.”

He nodded then left, jogging toward the cruiser.

 

* * *

 

 

His exhaustion was starting to beat out his adrenaline, but Lance couldn’t bring himself to rest. He’d been left in the small room vargas before, the only living thing remaining. The Galra, Harle, had tortured three more prisoners after the first, and she’d left their bodies in the room with Lance. Try as he might, he couldn’t tear his gaze from their pained faces.

She’d given up on getting information from him, at least, which meant some escape from torture. Of course, he knew that meant that his death would be impending. Perhaps he could go out with a fight, however.

He’d toppled the chair over already, but he was struggling to wriggle out of any of his bindings. He’d scooted toward the nearest body, though he already guessed that the prisoners wouldn’t have anything useful on hand. As expected, beneath the ratty clothes was even dirtier skin.

He rolled onto his front with a grunt, now resembling something akin to a worm. He could make it to the door, he thought, but he certainly wouldn’t actually be able to get a good hit in on the next person who walked through the door. At most, he could bite their ankles, or something. Still, he positioned himself appropriately, and he waited.

He didn’t have to wait long, and he heard someone coming down the hall just in time—his legs were getting sore from the uncomfortable position.

The door swung inward with a thud. They took one step in, then two.

Lance shot forward, his head making contact with their shin.

“What the fuck?” they shouted, crumpling. Lance managed to get on top of them, though without his hands he was simply acting like a weight.

Teeth primed to bite, Lance tried to find some exposed skin to hit.

“Lance!” they yelled.

Lance looked up, finally seeing his visitor. “Keith? What are you doing here?”

“We can save that for later. You look like you need some help.”

“That’s the understatement of the pheeb,” he smiled.

Keith pushed him off him, making quick work of the ropes keeping him in his chair. “Can you walk?” he asked.

“Help me up and let’s find out,” he said. Keith rose before extending his hand. He pulled Lance up, his strength surprising. Lance fell against his chest with an “oof”.

“Sorry,” he leaned his full weight on his legs. “Things seem to be working.”

“Alright, we’ve gotta get the hell out of here. I got him, Shiro.”

“Who are you talking to?”

“Communicator. Now, let’s go.” He led him down the hallway where a handful of guards lay, knocked out or dead, Lance didn’t care to know which.

“What’s the plan, then?”

“We take the ship and destroy the planet.”

Lance tugged on Keith’s wrist, stopping him. “The planet? You can’t do that! This is home to millions of people! Galra took this place by force and is using the locals as test subjects! You can’t just kill them!”

“What the hell were you here for, then?”

“To take out Harle. She’s the one who killed those people back there, and the one in charge of most of the weapons research. Take her out, and you severely derail their operations.”

“She’s not the only scientist the Galra have.”

“Well, maybe we can burn the labs. But, the prisoners are below ground.”

“How do you know?”

“When I was scoping out Harle’s office, I saw people being shuttled in, but none shuttled out. I tried to investigate, but then got caught.”

“You’re reckless.” Keith grabbed his shoulders and pulled him in for a kiss.

Lance chuckled. “Getting some mixed signals here.”

“Shiro, did you hear that?” Keith looked off, listening closely. “Lance.”

“Hm?”

“Can you lead us to where the captives are?”

He nodded. “Of course. There’s a small building behind the largest lab—it looks like a generator, a bit. But, it’s a back entrance to the basement.”

“Guarded?”

“Not heavily, at least not when I was there. You and I should find Harle, though. I’m surprised she hadn’t come back to check on me yet.”

“Alright, we can do that. Are you sure you’re alright, though? You look… rough.”

He scoffed. “I don’t know the meaning of the word. I’m fine—it takes more than torture to take me down.”

“Fine. We’ll head for the control room.”

“She has a lab here on the ship, actually. Based on how long she’s been gone, I’d bet that that’s where she is.”

“A lab… I’ve been on a ship like this before, but I’m not sure where anything like a lab could be set up.”

“It’s gotta be the recreation deck, port side.”

Keith raised a brow.

“I’ve spent time on ships like this, too. Most captains use the room for a pool or exercise room, so that may be what you’re used to seeing. It’s the only room on board with adequate air filtration and space.”

“I guess that makes sense.” He picked up on footsteps, and motioned for Lance to freeze. They both ducked down, braced to strike. Keith peeked from around the corner first, rushing a guard and knocking him out with the hilt of his sword. Lance bent down to pick up the man’s weapon, bouncing it in his hands to get a feel for the weight.

“Shiro said they found the door,” Keith continued down the hall, Lance trailing after him with some effort. He was much less talkative, understandable given his state. “How did you get here? Anything with some firepower?”

He shook his head. “Unfortunately no. Snuck onto a cargo ship to get in and I was gonna leave the same way.”

“Our ship isn’t built for fighting. We thought to take this ship and attack the lab from the air.”

“There’ll be a lot of Galra to get rid of onboard, and that’s assuming no backup are sent for.”

“We were hoping for something quicker, not a search and rescue mission,” he confessed.

“How did you know I was here, exactly?”

“I didn’t. It was… a hunch.”

“You risked your whole mission for a hunch?”

“I risked it for you.”

Lance was practically purring. “Aw, Keith… that’s so sweet.”

“We’re nearing the spot. Are you ready?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be, I guess. I’ll cover you, but I think it’d be best if we kept the gunfire to a minimum—who knows what kinda gas she’s got in there.”

Keith nodded, placing his hand on the door. He nodded toward Lance before busting through the door.

Harle’s head shot up at the noise. Before she could cry out, Keith’s blade had swung. He landed a hit on her side, kicking her to the ground. She didn’t seem like a soldier, she didn’t even put up much of a fight. Instead of yelling, she cowered, her voice seeming to have left her.

He glanced back to check on Lance, who was glaring down at Harle with venom.

“We can kill her,” Keith suggested.

“She’d be of better use alive.” Still, Lance walked closer, his finger twitching over the trigger.

“We can get a copy of all the data that’s in the lab and on board. She’s not that critical.”

“In that case.” Lance lifted his gun. She shut her eyes ticks before a pulse tore through her. “Good riddance,” Lance spat.

“You really aren’t looking good,” Keith noted. Lance was leaning heavily against a counter, his arm bumping several vials as it slipped. Keith grabbed him under his armpits, helping him stand upright. “We can take this from here. You should rest.”

He nodded, his weight seeming to increase as he gave up on standing. Keith nearly fell on top of him, but he managed to keep on his feet. He dragged Lance away from Harle’s body and propped him up on a bench after pushing aside some boxes filled with notebooks. Lance’s breath was ragged, his eyes fluttering shut.

“Keith…” he reached out, taking Keith’s hand in his own.

“Yes?” Lance leaned forward, and Keith cradled his head against his chest.

“I have to tell you something. It’s important.”

“Alright. It can’t wait?”

He shook his head. “I don’t want you to hate me.”

“I could never hate you,” he assured—he was shocked to realize that he was being truthful.

“Don’t get my hopes up,” he chuckled. The motion didn’t agree with his body, as he doubled over and started hacking. Keith’s shirt was speckled with his blood.

“Shit…” he began. “Lance, just rest, alright? You can tell me whatever it is you want to later, alright?”

“I…” he tensed then nodded.

“You’re not going to die on me, are you?” Lance smiled, his eyes slipping shut. Keith shook him slightly, but he was out cold.

“Shiro, how’s it looking out there?” he asked.

“We’ve got the guards surrounded. Have you gotten control of the ship yet?”

“No, I can do that quickly, though.”

“The prisoners say that some of the scientists are their own people, forced to work on weapons. If we can free them, we’ll have a much better chance of safely destroying the labs.”

“That’s good.”

“Is Lance alright?”

“He’ll live, but he’s pretty injured. He’ll need to see a healer when we get to the Blade.”

“You’re bringing him with us?”

“You’d have me abandon him?”

“We’ll discuss this later. Just get that ship. Let me know when you’re ready.”

“Yes, sir.”

 

* * *

 

 

The liberation of the planet went about as smooth as Keith could’ve hoped. It was the aftermath that proved to be messier than anticipated. While Lance was healing in a cryopod on board the Blade’s castle-ship, the Princess Allura herself hailed them over a previously encrypted frequency. She demanded the immediate release of Lance as well as an apology for the kidnapping of her agent. The whole situation required a lot of explaining on Keith’s part, an unwanted distraction from his time spent waiting for Lance to come out of the pod.

When he did, Keith caught him and brought him to his room to rest and eat. Lance was pretty quiet at first, his memory a bit fuzzy from his time in the pod. He later confessed to Keith that he hated stasis-induced healing and tried to stay away from it whenever possible.

With time, he was back to his usual self, and Keith finally cleared him to speak with Allura who’d been staying as a guest of the Blade. While it was clear that she was uneasy with the Galra, she was a true diplomat and was open to speaking with them. Shiro, too, was proving to be a vocal supporter of a potential alliance. Keith honestly didn’t care with way whether they officially allied themselves, he was mainly concerned with Lance’s well-being.

Lance returned from his briefing with Allura appearing somber.

“What’s wrong?” Keith asked.

“I want to apologize.”

“What for?”

Lance slumped over on Keith’s bed. “I have to be honest with you, and I understand if you don’t want to be around me anymore because of it, or if you hate me, even.”

“Is this what you wanted to tell me before you passed out?”

He nodded. “I’m sure you know by now that I’ve something of a liar. It’s what I’ve been trained to do under Allura. I seduce people, it’s my thing. When I met you, I honestly never thought I’d meet you again. Then, after my mission on Fruwyx, I realized that it was you who’d been by the pool—I’d recognize that mullet anywhere.

“I guessed that you’d be curious, and so I left my earring there, the tracker as you know. I admit to giving in to my hubris when I confronted you, that wasn’t part of my mission. But, with the tracker, I was able to find your ship and plant a transmission device—that day that I visited you in your room? We were watching you, well, watching the Blade, technically. You were a mark, and it was my mission to make sure you didn’t suspect me of anything. And we kept talking, and I really did enjoy it. I arranged for the funeral of the Madame's cousin, made a show of seducing her, but I’d actually just made a bet with her that I could sleep with you in exchange for her jewelry. Then, of course, I gave you what the Blade wanted to earn your trust.

“And I know it looks really bad, that I’ve been lying to you this whole time, but I do care about you—truly. I hate that I went and fell for you, it’s actually pretty amateur of me to have done so. I never wanted to hurt you; I’d hoped things could kind of fall into place more naturally, because at this point I want it all to be real, and all the things I told you, they were real, for the most part, at least things having to do with my feelings.”

Lance finally stopped, looking up to gauge Keith’s reaction for the first time. Instead he was met with the back of Keith’s head. Lance cleared his throat, reaching his hand out tentatively; he paused inches away from Keith’s hand.

Turning his head, Keith laced their fingers together. “I already know all this.”

Lance’s mouth fell open. “Wait. What?”

Keith shrugged. “Allura came clean about your involvement while you were healing, so… I know.”

“And?”

“It’s not important.”

“It isn’t?"

“Do you want me to be upset or something?”

“No! Of course not. It’s just… You really aren’t mad?”

“Sure, I was upset, but I’m not so stupid to just ignore your whole profession. You and I… we’re pieces in this game, we both knew that when we joined our bosses. Honestly, the fact that you told me without me having to force you is reassuring.”

“I see…” Lance scooted closer to Keith’s side, settling his head on his shoulder. “So. What does this mean, then? For us?”

“It can mean whatever you want it to. I’m pretty sure Allura will agree to an Alliance, and both our superiors seem to think we work well together.”

Lance bumped him playfully. “We do, don’t we?” he smirked. “I wouldn’t mind a repeat of that night on Jir’s moon.”

Keith rolled his eyes. “I assume you mean the night, not the mission?”

“Obviously.”

“I suppose that could be arranged,” he smiled, though his expression was soon covered by Lance’s lips. Keith fell back onto his bed, cradling Lance as he fell on top of him, laughing.

 

* * *

 

 

A pair of young men were often found coasting the galaxies on their own private ship, a stolen Galra cruiser painted in the Resistance’s flagship colors. Few knew who they worked for, but it was said that they acted as mediators between the Princess Allura herself and the elusive faction known only to the higher-ups in the war effort as the Blade. They were widely feared throughout the Galra army, as their unique skills made them nearly unstoppable when it came to infiltration and extermination. The bounty placed on them was the second highest in the universe, just below Allura’s, and one of them took a lot of pride in that.

“Take a picture, Keith!” Lance smiled next to yet another poster of theirs hanging up in a seedy bar.

With a sigh, Keith relented. “Can we go now?”

“Not yet, I think there’s a bounty hunter here who’s noticed us.”

“And what exactly do you want to do with him?”

“Recruit him, of course.”

“Your faith in the galaxy’s scum is boundless. Who is it, then?”

Lance pointed toward the bar. “The chef. Big guy, with the headband?”

“Really?” Keith glanced over to see the man in question smiling with some guests who seemed completely taken with his cooking. “He was so nice.”

“Hey, we’re nice, and we’re hanging up on wanted posters.”

“Keep your voice down!” Keith whispered. “The usual, then?”

“You got it.”

Minutes later, Keith and Lance were behind the bar, standing over their chef and hired man who was trying his best to make himself as small as possible.

“Look, I don’t even know who you are! I’m just a simple cook; I never asked to get roped into this stuff!”

“Hey man, don’t stress!” Lance held up his arms—perhaps not as comforting as he intended with his rifle cocked and ready to shoot. “We believe you. In fact, we wanted to talk to you about a unique recruitment opportunity.”

“I don’t want to kill for anyone, not anymore. My planet’s seen enough of this war.”

“Well, while you do have an impressive record, I actually wanted to talk to you about a job on our ship as a chef.”

“What the hell?” Keith glared at Lance. “Are you serious?”

“Totally! Just imagine it, Keith, actual edible food between missions? Another human for Pidge to bother? And he seems pretty funny.”

“Wait, so you don’t want me to hurt anyone?”

“Nope! Just to cook for us!”

“To be clear, you’re talking about working for the Resistance.”

“Tangentially, yes.”

“I see,” he leaned backwards, thinking. “And you say you’re not the only humans?” he squinted at Keith. "You sure he's human? He looks a bit purple."

“He's half. And that’s right. There are a few of us.”

“It’s been a long time since I’ve met other humans…” he began. “The species out here never understand my spice usage.”

“It’s a shame your talents aren’t appreciated. If you come with us, though—“ Lance trailed off.

“Is it safe?”

“Not at all,” Keith noted.

“Keith!”

The man laughed. “Oh, what the hell, it sounds like fun. Honestly, I’d give anything to get off this dump; I’m sick of all the fighting out here.”

“Is that right?” Lance hummed. “Well, if you’d like, I’m a pretty renowned meddler. If there’s anything we can do to help before taking off, we’re all ears.”

“I thought this was a vacation,” Keith whined.

“First, you two are adorable. Wow,” he whistled. “Second, there are a few groups who are the real trouble-makers. But, it’s more than the two of you could handle—no offense.”

“None taken,” Lance held out a hand, helping the other to his feet. “What’s your name?”

“Hunk. Hunk Garrett. I suppose I could use my gun one last time if it meant helping out this place. When can we start?”

“As soon as you give us the names, Hunk, buddy,” Lance grinned. “This has all the makings of a beautiful friendship.”

“Yeah, otherwise known as a huge pain in _my_ ass,” Keith rolled his eyes.

“Don’t mind the buzzkill. I’m the fun one in the relationship.”

Hunk nodded sagely. “Yeah, I was getting that vibe.”

Lance laughed, and despite the jab, Keith couldn’t stop the smile from spreading across his face. He took his partner’s hand in his and squeezed. They shared a long, loving look before turning back to Hunk; they had a job to do.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed! Also, i was watching Pride and Prejudice earlier and can y'all imagine:  
> Lance as Lizzie Bennet  
> Allura as Jane Bennet  
> Shiro as Mr. Bingley  
> Keith as Mr. Darcy  
> Lotor as Mr. Wickham
> 
> uh.... idk about all the other characters tbh what the hell let's say Coran is Mrs. Bennet teehee idk who would be Ms. Bingley the bitch but anyway just the dynamic between keith and lance is just ahhhhh
> 
> okay i'm done. who knows maybe someday i'll write this haha--but in space because space is the best.
> 
> follow me on the tumblrs and let's talk klance B)


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